


Will We Talk?

by NorthernRose



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Meet-Cute, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, Not Beta Read, One Night Stands, POV Jon Snow, POV Sansa Stark, Sansa deserves nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernRose/pseuds/NorthernRose
Summary: Title and general inspiration for this fic comes from the song 'Will We Talk' by Sam Fender, it's a great little bop about one night stands, I recommend you give it a listen if you fancy!This is my first fanfiction, be gentle with me.Jon and Sansa meet each other for the first time in a bar. The attraction is immediate, will they? wont they? Initial POV's is Jon's.It's basically a light hearted fic about a potential one night stand and what may/may not happen after.





	1. Thinking isn't his forte.

Jon considers himself to have few qualities of merit, patience is definitely not one of them. He is abundantly terrible at waiting. He finishes the remains of his now warm beer, it’s his second. He would really prefer a whiskey, but he was due to meet his friend two hours ago and is conscientiously aware that had he started knocking back whiskey when he arrived, he would find himself in an altogether other state. 

Jon loves his friends, he really does, especially Sam, who is evidently still trying to leave the office. He finally succumbs and orders a whiskey from the barman and fires another text to Sam to find out where he is. Jon knows better than most that is can be hard to get out of the office some days, so he agrees to give Sam another thirty minutes before calling it a night. 

The two met at the Northern Security Agency, or the Nights Watch as it is affectionately known by any good Northerner in honour of the old order who protected the North hundreds of years ago before the Long Night. Jon heads the intelligence department and had just returned from three days in the Vale, preferring to meet Sam here for their one monthly blow out. 

The vibration of his phone on the bar takes Jon out of his internal grumblings. 

Sam: Sorry Commander, just about to leave the office but Gilly needs me back at home, Little Sam still isn’t over his bug and she needs reinforcements. Gilly said she’s sorry, she said maybe you could use this opportunity to talk to a girl instead of me and that apparently girls are into the whole broody and mysterious thing ;)

Jon chuckled to himself, because really Gilly is a sweetheart and has been desperate to marry him off to some poor woman for years now, but really the ‘winky face’ is a low blow as Sam knows how much he hates emoji’s. He types out a quick response;

Jon: Don’t worry mate, hope Little Sam is ok. Tell Gilly I will take her out if she divorces you…  
Sam: Prick.  
Sam: She said she will think about it. But maybe try being spontaneous once is a while, talking to a pretty girl wont actually kill you. 

Jon sighs and runs his hand over his five day stubble. It’s been a year and a half since he broke up with Ygritte. Sure, he has had a fling here and there but nothing past the few first dates. His job, which he can barely even talk about to anyone hardly screams ‘I would make the ideal partner’ and in reality, working a 60 hour week is hardly an incentive for most women. 

He sips his whiskey, resigned to going back to his flat, taking Ghost out for a late walk and then tackling a few reports that continuously clog up his inbox. He is about to signal the barman for his bill when someone sits on the stool next to him. Although in Jon’s mind ‘someone’ really doesn’t cut it. She is without a doubt the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and he only gets a look at her for about 6 seconds before he decides he really needs to turn away for fear of looking like a complete serial killer.

The woman in question, in all her red headed, pale skinned and willowy limbed glory is waiting patiently for the barman’s attention. Jon has never seen someone sit so primly on a bar stool before, like it was a throne.  
“A gin and tonic please,” she murmurs softly to the barman. A pretty voice to match her pretty face Jon thinks. Her hair really is beautiful, a rich and bright copper, worn lose and falling to her waist, his fingers itch to run his hands through it but he puts that thought on pause. He really has always had a bit of a thing for red heads so it not hard for him to picture it spread across his pillow. Maybe Gilly is right, he really does need to talk to a woman if it takes all of now half a minute after getting a glimpse of the mysterious beauty for his brain to work up these images in his head.   
Jon weighs up the merits of Gilly’s advice about being spontaneous, he fiddles with his phone to have something to occupy his hands whilst he tries to think of some witty and charming way to introduce himself but of course he needn’t struggle for too long when he hears her tinkling voice for the second time of the evening;

“Lovely dog…” he glances at her and follows her line of sight to his phone in his hands, which has lit up in his fumbling displaying a rather cute picture of Ghost if he does say so himself before she continues, “I had a huskey when I was a little girl,” she smiles sweetly. Jon clears his throat whilst sending a quick thank you to the Gods for Ghost and his wingman abilities. 

“Thanks, his name is Ghost. He is much nicer and funnier than me but I’m generally cleaner so he cannot win them all.” She laughs softly, it sounds like a polite laugh more than anything, but he will take what he can get, and he smiles softly at her. It’s only now that he notices her eyes, which are an other worldly shade of sapphire. He can barely formulate a way to continue the conversation when he notices a smattering of freckles on her collarbone which he would like trace with his tongue at some point before he dies. 

“I’m Jon Snow by the way,” he stutters and holds out his hand. 

“Sansa, Sansa Stark,” she meets his gaze and takes his hand, it fits daintily in his which he quite likes for some reason he doesn’t want to dwell on too much.   
“Pretty name.” He really isn’t sure what has gotten into him, he is definitely flirting and doesn’t feel the least bit guilty. Of course, Beautiful Redhead, or Sansa as he now knows rolls her eyes before calling him out on his own nonsense,

“What a line, I’m sure you say that to all the girls you try to chat up in bars,” she offers him a close lipped smile to really ram her point home but honestly she’s not playing fair and he’d quite happy continue with this light hearted banter for a while longer, 

“Hey, I’m not the one who used a photo of my handsome dog as a way to talk to me,” he holds his phone up again in response. He thinks he’s got her there, but Sansa barely seems phased,

“Touché, what’s a girl to do? Handsome dog, handsome stranger in bar. That’s basically any woman’s Achilles heel,” she shrugs. He thinks he is ready to marry her there and then, in her pretty blue dress with the barman as their witness. Sansa thinks he’s handsome, this isn’t going too badly he thinks to himself and he’s completely perplexed but happy to roll with it. 

He orders another whiskey and a gin and tonic for Sansa; she laughs and mentions something about him listening to her order before but all he can really think about is the way she bites her rosy lower lip as they clink glasses. He is eager to keep the conversation going and wants to know anything and everything about this beautiful, funny and charming woman. He would happily have her read him a Chinese takeaway menu at this point but settles with an old faithful,  
“So, Sansa, tell me about yourself…” she cuts him off with a palm raised in front of him. 

“Oh I don’t think so Jon Snow,” she murmurs softly, “you’re not getting away with it that easily,” she puts her finger to her lip and looks up as if she is thinking and then snaps her eyes back to him and smirks before continuing, “You can have five questions, absolutely anything you want, I promise to answer them honestly, on my honour as a Stark,” she places her hand on her heart as she speaks and he is certain he would believe whatever she wanted to tell him anyway, “but five questions is all I will give you, so I would use them wisely if I were you,” she finishes with a coy smile as she traces the rim of her glass with her finger. 

“That seems entirely fair. Ok, so…” he trails off and thinks of something to ask her. He wants to be funny and aloof but honestly, he just wants to know everything about the goddess in front of him so he starts easy, “Don’t laugh, you may think its boring, but tell me about your family…”  
She smiles, a full, dazzling toothed smile and he subconsciously pats himself on the back for having caused such a sight,

“That’s not boring, firstly, well done for asking such an open ended question, secondly, my family are the most important thing in my life so any opportunity to talk about them is far from boring,” he has found himself leaning closer to her as she begins answering his question. This is how he learns about her caring mother and honourable father, her wild siblings who sound so different to her and their literal pack of wolves that make up the family. He laughs when she laughs, she smiles fondly when she talks about her elder brother who she clearly idolises. It’s a beautiful sight to see her talk about her family, she looks alive and so utterly in love with the world and he knows he has gotten far more from this one little question than he deserved, but it’s like she cannot help herself when it comes to her family. 

He uses question two to find out her favourite album, still dazzled but the way her eyes twinkled as she spoke about her siblings and the way she twiddled the hem on her dress that rested above her knee, which was as unfair as it was distracting, her legs really did go on for days and he found himself wondering just how long it would take to reach the top of her thighs. 

“My third question, how come you are here tonight? Don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon to be talking to the prettiest girl in the North but surely you should be being swept off your feet somewhere, not saving me from another night of Netflix and chill with my dog,” he finishes.   
She ducks her head shyly at his compliment, it intrigues him how she can be so confident and shy simultaneously. She looks over his shoulder as she thinks of her response and takes a sip of her drink to obviously fill the gap. “Well, the answer is not all that exciting. You are right though, I don’t really frequent bars and chat up random men, but I had a painstakingly boring day that I just needed a gin and tonic. My brother is in Wintertown for the week as normally I would bug him, plus I know Sandor…” she waves and smiles at the barman who is obviously the ‘Sandor’ she speaks of, “and Sandor always makes sure I am ok, he was one of the first friends I made when Robb and I moved to Queenscrown. We run a non profit for the preservation of Direwolves.” Again, he feels like he has really lucked out with this barrage of information. 

He is painfully aware he only has two questions left and Sansa may want to put an end to their conversation once its over as he mulls over his options for question four. 

“Ok, how about this Sansa Stark,” he enjoys the way her name rolls off of his tongue, “and you have to be honest remember… what is your biggest vice?” He knows he’s well and truly ruffled her demure feathers now as a delicate blush creeps over her cheeks as she takes in what he has said. It’s downright sexy as she twiddles with a strand of her fiery hair and bites her lip nervously. 

“Come on now Stark, your promised on your honour you would answer,” he is being cocky, and he knows it, but he is desperate to hear what it is that has her so rattled. She seems utterly perfect and put together as he mulls over the possibilities of what her vice could be, smoking? Hates kids? Voted for that awful Bolton in government? No, nothing like that, something that is making her blush spread further. 

She knocks back the remainder of her gin before slamming it down on the bar, she squares her shoulders towards him and he can see the moment she resigns herself to answering him, “You are right Snow, a promise is a promise,” she seems confident again now and she leans closer towards him, he is almost certain she glances quickly at his mouth but it lasts only a second. He moves closer too on instinct and she visibly swallows before whispering in her most demure voice, “My vice, Jon Snow, is that I have a dangerously addictive impulse of buying beautiful and expensive lingerie.” 

He is a goner. 

She leans back and smiles at him innocently. He blinks several times and is now unabashedly staring at her mouth as he tries to think about some such lingerie that she could be wearing right at this very moment, underneath that proper blue little dress. 

He has to clear his throat before responding for fear of being able to speak at all, because what is he honestly meant to do now. He has never wanted someone so much, so quickly after meeting them. It normally takes some time for him to warm up to people not mere hours. But Gods does he want her, he wants to find out what else will make her laugh, what she looks like in his bed, in the morning, what she tastes like, he wants everything she would give him. 

“You play dirty Sansa Stark.” He is certain at this point she wants him too, she, after all is the one who brought her underwear addiction into the mix. She bats her lashes innocently at him in response but says nothing, simply crosses her legs and lets her calf rest against his leg. It’s the first time they have touched and there is still the layer of his suit trousers between them, but it makes him lick his lips all the same. His takes his eyes from where their legs meet and follows the line of her body slowly all the way back up before their eyes meet again. He isn’t going to play fair is she isn’t he decides as his fifth and final questions comes to mind. 

“Ok Pretty Girl, I’ve learnt all about your amazing family, although I’m slightly petrified of your sister if I’m being honest. You have adequate taste in music, you love the North and animals, your brother is your best friend and your biggest supporter,” she is openly smiling at him now but lets him continue with his ramblings, “you literally save Direwolves for a living which is pretty sexy and also makes me want to cry a bit at the same time. You are funny and sweet and have a smile that could knock me on my arse and lets not beat around the bush but you have the best legs I’ve ever seen in my 28 years of existence,” she barks out a laugh at that and he flushes under the praise, “and last but not least, I don’t think I will be able to think of little else but your vast lingerie collection ever again… but I have one question left and it is quite an important one…” he trails off as he decides, fuck it, its now or never as he slowly traces a small line across the side of her calf with his knuckle. He hears her sharp intake of breath and he knows she feels the same spark as he does, and he knows he will never feel a softer leg again in his life.

“… So that brings me to question number five, what do you say Sansa Stark, do you want to get out of here?”.


	2. I don't usually do this kind of thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a slight recap but with Sansa's POV.   
Fic title and chapter title comes from the song 'Will We Talk' by Sam Fender. (he's my generations British Springsteen people!).

“… So that brings me to question number five, what do you say Sansa Stark, do you want to get out of here?”. 

Sansa was not sure at what point today she had lost her senses but it was likely around the moment she first locked eyes with Jon Snow. She had noticed him a minute or so earlier. She walked into the watering hole her and Robb normally visited when they fancied both good quality gin and company. She knows Robb likes it there because of Sandor, he would never tolerate any lecherous guys sniffing at her sundress but at this very moment she would have no qualms with Jon Snow ruffling her skirt for a moment or two. 

It wasn’t Jon’s eyes that she first noticed, they are beautiful, a silvery grey, like a new moon, but if her and her treacherous libido are being honest, it was actually his shoulders hunched over the bar in his crisp, white shirt, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms that had made her look twice. She had once laughed in Mya’s face when she spent a good five minutes talking about how attractive a forearm could be but she now fully expected to offer Mya a grovelling apology to her when they next caught up. 

Of course Jon was incredibly attractive, his hair was ebony and looked unruly, even tied back at the nape of his neck on a bun. Sure, his attractiveness gave her the confidence to sit next to him, despite there being several stools vacant. On any normal night Sansa would calculate ways in which to avoid the company of men she did not know. She was not entirely sure what she was doing, seeking out conversation with a beautiful stranger was so utterly out of character for her, she even ignored Sandor’s knowing smirk when he passed her Hendricks and tonic. 

It wasn’t however, Jon’s pretty face that made her talk to him. It was his nervous fiddling. It takes one to know one she thought to herself, Sansa would fiddle with her hair when she was nervous. She also saw him stare at her a little bit when she first sat down and she is no idiot so for the first time in many years, Sansa did something unexpected and spoke to the handsome man with the cute dog at the bar. 

But that was an hour ago and two drinks later. A lot had happened in that time but there were a few things she had taken from it that stood out to her. The first was that Jon Snow was incredibly easy to talk to. Sansa could talk about herself personally to few people, she could count them on her hand, but she found herself wanting to talk to Jon. She liked his questions, she could tell he had thought about them before asking, even the silly one about her favourite album, she could tell he just wanted to put her at ease and have something simple to discuss after going into so much detail about her family.

Secondly, she realised that Jon had not spoken about himself at all in the last hour. She would need to change that, it was only polite and fair. Her experience with men thus far had not had the same results, the men who had wanted her did not want her mind or to hear what she had to say. They wanted her pretty face and her good family name. Jon just seemed to want to listen to her. 

Thirdly was that Sansa was happily playing with fire. She was being flirty and forward and honestly had no idea what had come over her. Granted the question about vices had thrown her, it was a running private joke between her and her girlfriends that for someone who had so much gorgeous lingerie she would not show it to anyone. It was for her, it was her thing but she suddenly found herself wondering about what Jon would do or say if he say what she was wearing right now. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction though so here she was, talking to a near stranger about her underwear. 

When she felt his eyes on her and his knuckle skim her calf she realised no other man had ever made her feel so wanted with a single touch, let alone only on her leg. How would it feel if his hand trailed higher? Would he undress her? What would his mouth feel like on her skin? Sansa’s sexual experiences has been ok, nothing to sing songs about, but Jon Snow gazing at her lips made her want to press her thighs together. What had this man done to her? 

But that was then and this was now. He had asked his final question, did she want to get out of here? He had given her the choice, that implication was not lost on her. He wanted her and that was abundantly clear, he did not want to ‘get out of here’ to go play scrabble. Sansa knew what would happen if they left together, if they went back to her flat, or to his, she wasn’t silly, but she had never had a one night stand in her life. They had a connection that was clear, something like this could ruin it, she had seen enough sitcoms to know the awkwardness that could follow. 

Sansa realised that for several moments now she had been sitting there weighing up what she should or shouldn’t do, that was Sansa Stark to a tee, perpetual planner and do-gooder. She also knew this man would make her feel good, better than any man ever had. She could see the want in his eyes, like he wanted to devour her on the bar in front of twenty or so people, she’d likely let him with how hot he made her blood run when he looked at her like that. 

Sansa surmised she had now been sitting across from him following his fifth and final question in complete silence for about a minute. Jon remained still, sitting in front of her, with the same look in his eye as he stared at her and waited for her answer. It was this that made her decision for her, because Jon Snow did not take, he did not demand, he listened and accepted whatever it was she deemed her was worthy of. 

She dipped her chin and smiled before looking up and him and taking a deep breath,

“I need you to know something, I don’t usually do this kind of thing, I know that women say that to men, and I’m pretty certain it is to make the guy feel better about it, like they are still getting the good girl even though we are never going to fit into one box. With me though, it isn’t a line, If I go home with you, will it change the way you think of me? Maybe it will, maybe it wont, but in all honestly I don’t think I care about that in the slightest.” She wasn’t sure how confident she was coming across, she felt like a wreck. She could tell he was nervous too, he swallowed thickly before opening his mouth to speak,

“Is that your answer?” he said quietly. 

“Ask me again…”

He nodded slowly, looked once more at her lips, then slowly dipped his gaze to her neck and then back to her eyes before continuing, 

“What do you say Sansa Start, do you want to get out of here?”

She uncrossed her legs and stood slowly from her stool. She rested her hand on top of his, which lay on the surface of the bar before slowly running her index finger along the top of his hand, up his forearm before resting it lightly on his bicep, 

“Yes.”

With that he took her hand and turned her palm over, he raised it to his mouth and pressed a slow kiss to her palm, his eyes locked with hers all the while. She would have be able to look away if she tried, not if the bar they sat in front of was on fire, before he slowly stood and began to wordlessly walk them to the door, his hand still in hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I have been lurking in the wings of this fandom shortly before the start of the last season, so I am pretty new to this world but have finally taken the plunge and starting writing a few things, so the fact anyone is reading this at all is perplexing and slightly wild to me.   
Although I shouldn't be surprised as everyone is this community is so bloody nice! 
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will earn this fic's rating if that's your kind of thing (I mean obviously it's mine, I love a bit of smut as much as my next cup of earl grey). I however, haven't written anything like this before so bear with me, but am in a bit of a flow so hopefully wont be too long.


	3. If you dance with me darling, if you take me home...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work and Chapter title taken from the song 'Will We Talk' by Sam Fender. 
> 
> Sansa and Jon make their way to her flat.  
Explicit langugage and content, ya dig?

_ **<https://www.agentprovocateur.com/gb_en/seraphina-tie-side-brief-black> \- here is a link to Sansa's underwear inspo in case your feeling visual, anywho, back to the chapter...** _

The air outside was fresh and distinctly Northern, it could be considered a bit nippy to some, but Jon felt hot, red hot, with Sansa Starks hand is his and the memory of her hand trailing up his arm as she whispered to him that she had decided she wanted them to go home together. Walking out of the bar, his mind had gone into sensory overload as he thought about the things he wanted to do to her, to do with her, he hadn’t even kissed her yet but all Jon knew is that he wanted nothing more than to drive Sansa Stark insane with pleasure.

He was briefly snapped from his reverie when she tugged on his hand gently,

“My flat is a ten minute walk, do you want to come back to mine?” she asked, he found his self nodding before raising a hand and tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear, it was just as soft as he thought it would be. He silently thanked his common sense that Ghost had stayed at Grenn’s for the last three days whilst he had been away and he wasn’t picking him up till the morning, maybe Sansa would want to go with him he thought, before he put a pin in that for getting too ahead of himself.

“Of course Pretty Girl, anything you want,” he answered before she tugged on his hand again and led the way.

She was scowling to herself slightly, “I realised back in the bar that we had only been speaking about me, it’s a bit rude really.”

He chuckled softly, polite Sansa Stark, he had learned this much about her so he really shouldn’t have been surprised that she was worried she had monopolised conversation.

“Sansa I would happily hear about nothing but you will the end of time.”

She bit her lip and smiled at him. Where had this girl been hiding he wondered?

“Nevertheless,” she smirked, “would you tell me about yourself, we have approximately four minutes, impress me Jon Snow.”

He honestly couldn’t resist an opening like that, so sighed before looking towards the sky and whispering, “in four minutes I think you will be nothing but impressed.” He couldn’t be sure but he was almost certain she murmured “smooth” before laughing at him.

“Ok I know when I’m beaten, there is not a lot to know really. I am an only child but my parents aren’t here anymore, Ghost is my family. He’s incredible.” He continued disclosing tit bits of his life, he told her he had a job in IT for the Government, it wasn’t technically a lie but hell, he would tell her everything when he was certain he would propose marriage by the morning. He told her about crying when Sam and Gilly asked him to be godfather to their son, he told her how he cannot cook but loves food, how he loves to run and secretly likes romantic comedies but would deny it if she ever told anyone. She laughed when he laughed. He told her his vice was redheads with and addictive lingerie purchasing habit, that earned him a dig in the ribs but he didn’t miss the way she then pulled his arm over her shoulder instead of taking his hand again. It all felt so easy, it didn’t feel like too strangers who were awkwardly walking home together.

He removed his arm from her shoulder when she stopped and rooted around in her bag for her keys when they came in front of a plain brick building. He couldn’t resist however circling his arms around her from behind and pulling her against him, she felt warm and soft and he could feel every inch of her back against his front. He nosed her hair and was desperate to kiss her but he continued to wait.

“You’re being very distracting,” she muttered, Sansa had turned her head so their noses ghosted against one another and she looked like a woman who wanted to be thoroughly kissed.

“Well we had better get you inside then Sansa Stark,” he whispered in her ear and felt her shiver against him. He was half hard now and thought it best to go inside save him trying to fuck her on her front steps. They walked to her door on the first floor, he barely took in his surroundings. Her keys jiggled as she unlocked the door and stepped into the flat, she flicked on a lamp just in the door way and held her hand out for him to step over divide. He gave her his hand and she pulled him gently inside. He kicked the door closed behind him with a bang, “thank fuck for that,” he muttered as he pulled her flush against him and crashed his lips to hers. She let out a delicate cry as he tilted her head back to deepen the kiss, he groaned as he felt her tongue against his and her hands slipped into his hair.

He ghosted his hands lightly down her sides as they continued to kiss slowly. He could feel her everywhere, he was not sure it would be possible for their bodies to get closer. He needed more of her, he needed to get her somewhere other than the hallway. He rested his hands on her arse for just a moment, squeezing gently as she groaned into his mouth. The sound went straight to his cock as he ripped his lips from hers and dipped his hands to the backs of her legs before hauling her over his shoulder.

She squealed breathlessly, “You put me down now Jon Snow!”

“Not bloody likely sweetheart,” he laughed at her before continuing, “bedroom?” he asked.

“First on the left, thanks the gods,” she sighed.

He deposited her on the bed, the sheets were a dark blue floral and made her legs look even paler and her hair brighter. Her lips were kiss swollen and her hair ruffled. He had never seen anyone look so entirely fuckable.

“I think its high time we had another conversation about this underwear of yours,” he said as he looked down on her from above her bed.

She looked at him from below her eyelashes as her fingers toyed with the hem of her dress, “Conversation is overrated,” she whispered as she pulled and shimmied her dress over her head before tossing it at the end of the bed, she laid back and propped herself on her elbows as he surveyed the woman in front of him.

“Seven fucking hells, you are perfect,” he was aware his mouth was moving and words were coming out but he had little memory of what he was saying.

Jon knew very little about fashion and fabrics, cuts and styles. Her bra and knickers were black, the exact same shade of his hair, exquisite applique laid over a dainty mesh that he thought was thankfully indecently thin. He could see her pale skin through the gaps and a small red thatch of hair between her legs that made his mouth water. His eyes travelled over the ruffle on the top of her knickers which were held together by delicate silk strings at the side. He made a mental note to return to those little bows at a later point.

He really had spent far too long in the last minute not touching her, so he made quick work of his shirt and suit trousers. One of his shoes hit the wall in his haste and if he was far less graceful in undressing than she was she gave little indication by the way her eyes drank him in. He flashed her with a predatory grin before covering his body with hers on the bed, positioning himself between her legs which she drew up around his sides.

Their mouths met again in a frenzy, because going minutes without kissing her really was too long. Her fingers dug into his back and shoulders as she ran her hands over him whilst he ran one hand along her side and tangled the other in her hair behind her head.

Jon reluctantly tore his lips from her with a groan, but there really was too much of Sansa to taste. He ran his nose along her jaw before kissing his way down her neck and nipping the skin of her collar bone with his teeth. He felt her stretched and arch her back.

“Gods I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I was you sweetheart,” he murmured into her freckle dusted neck, “you have no idea what your doing to me,” although she likely had some idea as he pressed his cock into her. She tipped her head back and moaned. He took this as a sign that she liked hearing him mutter his filthy little endearments to her and he was more than happy to oblige.

He gathered her wrists from his shoulders, took them in one hand and raised them above her head before taking his mouth in hers once more. He kissed her slowly and wrapped his tongue with hers before biting her lower lip and descending back down her neck towards her chest. He could feel her squirming beneath him.

“Please Jon… please, touch me,” she sighed. He would happily hear her beg him until the end of his days.

“Anything you want, pretty girl, I will do anything you want,” he said in between the valley of her breasts as he nosed his way over one of the cups. He released her hands from above her head and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. He sat back on his haunches and she slowly slid the bra down her arms. He drank in the first glimpse of her breasts and he thank the gods that this woman had sat next to him in the bar tonight.

He lowered himself back down and kissed his way across her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth and nipping it lightly, he took the other in his hand as she moaned in response, lounder than she had before and the noise made his cock ache unbearably, “you have the most amazing tits Sansa,” he mumbled against a nipple. She laughed breathlessly in response but it soon turned into a whimper as he palmed the front of her underwear with a full hand.

“Jon, please, you are torturing me,” she moaned and wiggled against his hand. He could feel the heat of her on his palm.

“Well we can’t have that now sweetheart can we?” he whispered as he descended down her stomach, stopping to kiss her belly button before settling his head between her thighs.

“Now, this little lingerie hobby of yours is something I fully support, you have my full backing,” he said as he took one of the strings holding the flimsy excuse of clothing between his teeth. She had raised herself onto her elbows and surveyed him through her eyes which were now a midnight blue.

“Agent Provocateur,” she whimpered as he pressed his face to her mesh covered mound and breathed her in. It was his turn to groan in response as he pulled the final ribbon and ripped the last barrier between them away. It was so arousing, her biting her lip as he ran his eyes over her and drank in the sight in front of him. He felt breathless,

“Sansa Stark and her pretty little cunt,” he whispered as he lowered himself and licked slowly up the length of her. He felt her press herself against him as she moaned delicately and fell back onto the mattress. He pinned her hip with his hand and if it was hard she did not complain and she continued to moan as he tormented her with his tongue. He took her nub in his mouth and sucked as he slipped his fingers into her and languidly moved them in and out of her.

“Jon, yes, please, please,” she whimpered as she canted her hips against his fingers and mouth. He looked up and saw she had brought her hands to her breasts and he thought the sight of her, flushed, chest rising and falling as she panted could make him come then and there.

“You’re so wet Sansa, to tight, I could taste your cunt till I die,” he felt her begin to flutter around his fingers and he was determined as he curled his fingers inside her and nipped gently at her nub. She cried out in her climax and clutched his head with her thighs as they trembled around him.

He rested his head on her leg as he watched her work through her orgasm, gently running his hand up and down her ribs. She was a vision, naked and splayed out before him as she looked down on him with hooded eyes. She tugged on his hand and he moved himself up so the he was on top of her again. She kissed him hard and he groaned into her mouth as she tasted herself on his tongue. She trailed her hands and slipped them onto his arse underneath his boxers, pressing her into him.

She kissed his neck and nipped his earlobe before whispering into his ear, “no one has ever made me come like that, please Jon, I need you inside me.”

He railed off curses into her neck and did not need telling twice. He removed his boxers and reached for his wallet where he had left it on her bedside table, taking a condom in haste and slid it onto his length, he batted her hand away playfully when she tried to help him with a whimper for fear of coming before he even touched her.

She pulled him towards her and rolled onto of him. He was lost for words as he took in the sight of her above him as she straddled his waist. He gripped her hips and cursed as she took him gently in hand and rubbed his cock into his wetness. She sighed softly and that little breathy moan was the sexiest thing he ever heard and she lowered herself onto him.

They moaned in unison as he filled her. She was so wet and so tight and he clenched his eyes closed as her heat burned into him.

“Sansa you feel… fuck, I want to see you ride me,” he groaned.

“Anything you want Jon,” she smiled coyly, repeating his earlier words to him and she leaned back, settling her palms on his thighs as she began to rock back and forth, rolling her hips against his cock, “I will do anything you want.” She whimpered as she set an agonisingly slow pace, but if the breathless noises she was making were any indication to go by she loved it. There was nothing like the sight of him seeing his cock move slowly in and out of her. He palmed her arse to bring her closer to him with each roll of her hips and she moaned lounder.

“You’re so close aren’t you sweetheart,” he muttered as she tipped her head back and dug her nails into him. He could feel her hair tickle his legs. he could see her nod but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to speak, so he brought a hand to her nub and circled it gently, pressing harder with each rotation. He needed her to come again before he lost it and he groaned in satisfaction as she clenched around him and fell against his chest.

“Gods I love watching you come,” he cursed as he rolled them over. Her orgasm was still washing over her as he begin to thrust into her with more urgency. he sucked at her neck and felt her moan rumble through her throat.

“Harder Jon, please, please fuck me,” he hadn’t heard perfect Sansa Stark swear tonight and it made him snap his hips more forcefully into her. He grabbed her leg and lifted it higher against his side as he fucked her.

He felt dizzy as he felt her begin to tighten around him again and he grabbed harshly onto her arse as he took a nipple in his mouth and bit gently into it.

“I need you to come for me Sansa,” he ordered as she finally climaxed again with his name on her lips and her nails biting into his back. Jon cursed into her breasts as he felt himself let go when he came inside her.

She looked utterly beautiful and spent as he rolled off of her, but she would not let go and came with him, ending up resting on his chest. She brought her hands up and settled her face resting on them. She looked down at him with the softest expression in her eyes, he couldn’t make out what it meant. They stared at each other for maybe minutes as he toyed with a strand of her hair before finally tucking it behind her ear. He felt a loss at what to say to the beautiful woman in front of him, naked and thoroughly fucked, surely words, witty, heartfelt or otherwise would ruin what they had shared tonight. So he settled with pulling the cover over them both, her still resting on his chest and sighing softly to her, “Sansa Stark.”

She smiled gently at him before taking a deep breath, “Jon Snow” she whispered again his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew.  
We've got to have a 'morning after' chapter right?


	4. Will we talk in the morning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter my lords and ladies. I have bashed this out quite quickly and his hasn't been beta'd.   
We are switching back to Sansa'a POV for this one. I've also introduced Robb slightly becuase he is the gift we all deserve. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy our conclusion to Will We Talk?

Sansa stretched and arched her back as she felt herself wake. It was too early, she could sense it without opening her eyes, she could feel the light streaming in from her window, she must not have closed the curtains she thought to herself. Ah yes, she could suddenly recall her haste to get to bed, the reason was nestled behind her.

The twisted as gently as she could so not to wake him. Jon Snow slept soundly next to her. He looks so peaceful, and pretty, too damn pretty for his own good. Who has the right to look like that in the morning?

She blushed to herself as the memory of what had transpired between then the night before flooded her brain. Their conversation in the bar, the flirting, the light touches, his proposition. She felt herself grow restless as she recalled his lips on hers, his hands and mouth and the filthy words he had murmured in her ear. If the multiple orgasms were not enough of an indicator that is was likely the best sex she would ever have in her life, the way he looked at her would have confirmed it. She had never felt so wanted than when his eyes drank her in, not just physically but completely, like he needed every part of her. it was overwhelming and consuming.

She eased herself out of bed as gently as she could manage, she searched briefly for her underwear before giving up completely, she had a sneaky suspicion where they had gone she thought, grinning to herself. She grabbed the first thing she saw in her drawer, a pale, dusty blue pair of French knickers and pulled on his discarded shirt, it fell down her thighs.

She tip toed out of the room and used the bathroom, making sure to brush her teeth, she had always laughed at how romantic comedies seemed to skip over the ‘morning breath’ issue in these kinds of situations. She surveyed herself in the mirror, hair slightly ruffled but nothing disastrous, there was however, no hiding her swollen lips and the dark bruise Jon has sucked onto her neck. It made her giggle to see it.

She went to the kitchen and started to make some coffee, Jon looked like a coffee guy she thought, she hadn’t bothered to find out last night. In all honesty, she just wanted to get back into bed and wrap his arms around her, but wouldn’t that be awkward? Wouldn’t he want to make a quick exit in the least awkward fashion? Years of semi-disastrous relationships had taught her that men did not like her to be too forward emotionally. She had been called clingy and needy too many times.

Deep down Sansa knew the men from her past were unworthy of her. Her father and Robb had told her that enough and they had never lied to her, not once in her entire life. Maybe Jon did deserve her. She found herself wondering what her family would think of him. She chided herself to calm the fuck down, Jon might not even stay for bloody coffee let alone meet with her family.

She realised she ached deliciously. Her mind wandered to the memory of how she had rolled them over and ridden him. Gods she had never called the shots like that before. He had made her feel confident, she had always worried in the past that her previous partners would laugh at her, in fact one or two had when she had tried to make decisions in bed. She loved how he had teased her with his words and his kisses, she would happily spend days at a time kissing that gorgeous mouth, and let it not be said that Jon Snow did not know exactly what to do with that mouth. She found herself flushing and rubbing her thighs together as she leaned against the kitchen work top as she thought about the image of his heads between her legs as he feasted on her. She would likely not forget the best orgasm of her life.

Her laptop on the work top tore her from her reverie as it signalled an incoming Skype call. It was Robb, he would always call when their business took him away for a few days, just to check in on how everything was with his favourite person. She hastily did up some of the buttons on Jon’s shirt and flattened her hair, hoping she didn’t look too flustered.

“Hey Big Brother,” she waved at the screen after accepting the call.

“Morning Sans, alright?” His dishevelled face appeared in from of her, his mop of auburn curls unruly. He never had been a morning person. He grinned at her before taking a sip of what she was certain was bitter coffee.

Oh yes big brother, everything is grand, your demure little sister who hasn’t looked at another man for about a year was thoroughly debauched last night and said debaucher is still laying in her bed in the next room, no, perhaps that’s too much information for him she deduced, “Everything is fine, are you still getting in at 5pm?”

“Yeh, can you pick me up from the station, then we can go over to Mum and Dad’s together?” she nodded in response and sipped her own coffee before he continued, “got any plans for the day?”

Aside from hopefully spending a morning in bed with Jon Snow, an orgasm or two and maybe letting him ask her our if he doesn’t do a runner as soon as he sees her, “Nope, nothing concrete,” she settled with. It was at that point that Jon came into view across the room, wearing nothing but his boxers and looking deliciously rumpled, leaning against the doorway. She leaned closer to the screen and settled her palm to try and distract herself from drawing attention to the fact that a man she had met 12 hours ago was standing across from her in his underwear.

“So Robb…” she continued before he cut her off.

“San, what is that on your neck?” she could see his trademark Tully scowl on the screen. Her hand flew up to her neck automatically to where she knew Jon’s bruise bloomed brightly, all but confirming her guilt as she straightened herself and stood upright.

“Nothing!” she squeaked, her eyes automatically flew to Jon’s and the traitor stood there grinning from ear to ear, he looked far to pleased with himself and he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Sansa Lyarra Stark, by the god’s is that what I think it is?” Robb bristled.

She laughed at him, because really it was hilarious and she might as well go out in a blaze of glory. Jon chuckled from across the room as their eyes met again.

Who was that? Who are you looking at? San…”

“Robb I honestly have no idea what you are talking about, in fact, it must be the connection, I think I’m losing you…” she widened her eyes innocently at the screen.

“Don’t you dare…” he fumed as she hit the end button and closed the screen.

They met eyes again she bit her lip and dipped her chin shyly.

“Quite the little actress aren’t you,” he said, his voice was still hoarse and sleep addled and she was not sure if a voice alone had ever made her shiver before but here they were.

“I think it was easier than explaining to my brother that you…” she trailed off suddenly unsure of how to continue.

“… that I have the best night of my life in his little sisters bed,” he continued, “no, your are probably right.” He grinned at her. she brought her hand to her mouth and smiled behind it. This man was going to kill her.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, this was good, this was safe conversation.

“Always,” he sighed wistfully as he made his way towards her, she didn’t miss the way his eyes drank her in, travelling from her head, all the way down before settling on her legs, “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks, it’s new,” she answered innocently as she passed him a cup of coffee. The settled into silence as they both drank their coffees and appraised each other. He had a small frown crease on his forehead, she wanted to smooth it out as he seemed to be steeling himself to say something.

“Erm, so, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” the confident Jon Snow from last night seemed suddenly self conscious and she liked it.

“I would love to but I can’t tonight Jon, how about…” but he interrupted her.

“No of course, I get it,” he glanced at his feet.

She laughed gently before stepping closer to him and taking his mug out of his hand, she circled her arms around her neck and he settled his hands automatically on her hips, his shirt rose up her body slightly, “no Jon, what I meant was I have a family dinner planned tonight, I would invite you but my brother would likely have some questions for you, and when I say questions, I mean SAS style interrogation,” he grinned wolfishly at her as she continued, “what about lunch instead?”

“Gods yes,” he exhaled the breath he had evidently been holding in, “Anything you want, we can pick Ghost up on the way. At this point I’d do taxes with you if it meant I got to spend more time with you,” he said as he drew her closer to him.

“Really?” she smiled shyly at him.

“Yes Sansa, I’ve never met anyone like you. Last night was, well it was…” instead of finishing he brought his lips down to her and kissed her softly, a slow peck, then another and another before kissing her deeply and turning her so she was against the kitchen island. His hands ghosted softly down her hips and the sides of her upper thighs before he hoisted her up and settled her on the work top. She spread her legs for him as he kissed her breathlessly so he could settle between them. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her.

“Please Sansa Stark,” he said as his hand travelled to the top button of the shirt she was wearing, his shirt, “let me take you out.”

“You bloody better.” She huffed before he chuckled against her temple as he began to undo the few buttons she had hastily done up earlier. He eased the shirt open slightly and his eyes roamed over her. She felt a ripple of pleasure travel through her as he took in the sight of her, braless and her pale blue, lacy French knickers and nothing but his shirt.

“Gods Sansa,” he groaned, “I like these,” he murmured softly as he toyed with the lacy edge of her underwear.

She bit her lip coyly, “Thank you, I couldn’t find the ones from last night, they have mysteriously gone missing,” she scowled.

He raised his eyebrows, “that is truly tragic, I had a soft spot for them,” he said, before kissing her neck once and taking her lobe gently in his mouth for a brief tug, “they are mine now,” he whispered his confession into her ear as she whimpered and clutched him tightly against her, “I’ll buy you knew ones, anything you want.”

“You may regret saying that,” she rolled her hips against him impatiently as he lowered his head and kissed the swell of her breast, nosing the shirt further apart.

“Of all the regrets I will likely have in my life sweetheart, that is not going to be one of them,” he concluded as she laughed a laboured breath and ran her hands into his unruly curls and he took one of her nipple into her mouth. He swirled his tongue around it gently as he gazed up at her. She rolled her hips again as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a soft moan.

“Jon,” she sighed, “take me to bed.”

He stood up straight and kissed her once soundly on the mouth, before pulling her to the edge of the work top and sinking to his knees in front of her, “In a minute sweetheart, besides, we’ve got plenty of time,” he muttered as he nuzzled the lace of her underwear, “and we are going to need time for all of the things I have planned for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented and read.   
This is my first fic, I have a few ideas floating around for future ones but not many, so I would love to hear any prompts anyone may have! 
> 
> Apprication and admiration, always. 
> 
> Rose x

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title also comes from 'Will We Talk' by Sam Fender. I hope you like it.  
My fanfic virginity is now null and void. 
> 
> I am planning on another or possibly two chapters to follow.  
It will get pretty saucy in the next chapter.


End file.
